Bottoms Up
by holadios
Summary: House is joined by a woman in a bar with nothing better to do. Chaos ensues: "Well, if very public displays of affection are your thing...Who wants to see me get laid?" Oneshot.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N:** This oneshot is a nice break, both stylistically and plot-wise, from my other stories. Pandorama and I got together and made a pact to write oneshots based on the same prompt. Our prompt: House is in a bar with a woman who is not Cameron/Cuddy (Cameron for me, Cuddy for her), and whose identity is not revealed until the end of the story. After reading this story, you should check out her oneshot featuring not-Cuddy, **Peculiar Bedfellows**, for your continued amusement.

This is set during Season 3.

**A/N:** Melissa, all the brains and porcupines thank you for beta reading this piece for me!

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"I thought I'd find you here."

He turned and saw her sliding onto the stool next to him. His eyes followed the length of her legs as she situated herself and ordered a drink he didn't catch from the foreign bartender. Immigrants. He was surprised the Indian managed to make the correct drinks at all; apparently the man had learned how to listen from the British, but not how to speak without becoming entirely incomprehensible.

He belched loudly and grinned at her. "You found me," he said loudly. He pretended to check his watch. "It's getting late. Shall we?"

"I just got here," she protested. "And there's nowhere to go anyway."

"Well, if _very_ public displays of affection are your thing," he said, shrugging. "Who wants to see me get laid?" he asked the bar at large.

"House," she hissed, as two teenage boys sitting close to them grinned and raised their hands. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. It's what _we're_ doing together."

"Keep your voice down," she implored as her drink arrived. "I don't want us to get thrown out."

"Oh, please, they love us." He knew she would be unable to deny that was true; even the bartender was smirking in a bemused sort of way. He was pleased to see she was blushing at the attention they were being paid. "Just drink your drink. You'll loosen up soon."

"Doubt it," she replied, but she took a sip of the amber liquid all the same.

"There you go," he said with an approving nod. "Just a few more of those and we'll be all set."

"In your dreams."

"At the rate I'm going, that'll be very soon. This here's my tenth."

Her eyes widened and she spun around to glare at the bartender. The Indian clearly had to bite back another laugh before shaking his head to indicate House was lying. House directed her attention back to him as he attempted to stand.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" she asked as he swayed dangerously on the spot. "Sit back down!" She pushed him back onto his stool.

"Always knew you wanted to have your way with me," he declared audibly. "_In the bedroom_."

She just rolled her eyes. "You're drunk, House."

"And you're clearly not drunk enough." He handed her his half empty glass. "This one's for you."

"Scotch?" she asked, tentatively sniffing it.

"Only the finest. Bottoms up!" He directed her hand to lift the glass and then tilted it toward her face.

"House!" she exclaimed angrily as the liquid splashed over her. She immediately grabbed some napkins and started patting at the stains on her clothes. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"For such a smart woman, you don't have a very strong grasp on social situations," he said, waving his index finger at her reprovingly. "This is a bar," he began slowly. "This is where people go to drink. Drinking means consuming alcohol." He deliberately let his voice rise and noticed how she seemed to swell with anger the louder he got.

"I know what drinking means," she snapped. He could tell she was flustered by the looks people around them were furtively shooting in their direction.

"That's good," he said with a dramatic sigh of relief. "I was worried for a second there."

She set her empty glass down on the bar counter. He hadn't even noticed her sipping at it. She turned away from him to suppress the belch rising in her throat, but he caught it anyway. He smirked. "Serves you right for downing that in one gulp."

"Time to go," she announced as she pulled out her bag to pay. She threw some bills onto the counter.

"Glad to see you got it covered," he said, also standing and turning to leave.

"Oh, no you don't!" she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back toward the bar. "Take out your wallet. You're paying for your own poison."

He tried to protest, but she thrust her hand into his left pocket and retrieved his wallet. Despite the fact she was making him pay, he couldn't help but grin. "Now, now, there'll be plenty of time for that later. And next time, make sure you don't miss. The jewels are a bit more to the right."

She didn't respond, but simply handed the wallet back to him. "Now we can go. Where's your cane?"

He looked around the bar and where he had been sitting. It took him a minute, but he finally located the cane underneath the stool he had occupied. He glanced at her, and she looked back in exasperation. "What?" she asked testily.

He limped forward and gave her a pitiful look as he tried to reach down to grab it, though he admittedly wasn't making much of an effort. He heard her sigh loudly. "I'll get it then," she told him. He immediately straightened and backed up to give her space. As she leaned forward, so did he.

"Stop staring at my ass," she reprimanded without turning around. He made no effort to oblige.

She straightened up suddenly with the cane in hand and he found her face inches from his own. She looked momentarily startled, and then the next moment, she was fine. She handed the cane to him without a word.

"I really enjoyed the view," he informed her, grinning. She ignored him. He took a few steps with the cane and stumbled over the legs of one of the bar stools. She grabbed his arm to steady him.

"Clearly you're too drunk to walk straight," she said in a tired sort of way. She kept her grip on his cane-less arm as they exited.

"Now that's more like it," he said. "I know a great place we can go where you can make another attempt to swipe the family jewels."

"House," she said through her teeth, "the only place we'll be going is home."

"Yes, _Mom_." And he did not protest again as they left the bar and entered the crowded Singapore airport once more.

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed, and please leave a review!

P.S. More specifically, the story is set during episode 3x18, Airborne.


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